


For Good

by IneffablePenguin



Series: Love, and Other Ineffable Things [2]
Category: Good Omens (TV), Good Omens - Neil Gaiman & Terry Pratchett
Genre: Fluff, Friendship/Love, Ineffable Husbands (Good Omens), Ineffable Idiots (Good Omens), Kissing, M/M, Morning After, Morning after the first time, Public Display of Affection, Romance, Romantic Fluff, Romantic Soulmates, True Love
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-22
Updated: 2019-08-22
Packaged: 2020-05-28 11:22:02
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19393090
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/IneffablePenguin/pseuds/IneffablePenguin
Summary: The morning after their first time together. Wherein Aziraphale asks his demon to finally come home.[Includes illustration]{Part 2 of the 'Love, and Other Ineffable Things' series}'As they walked down the street Crowley reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “What?” he asked, as Aziraphale looked up at him in surprise.'





	For Good

**Author's Note:**

> For Pt 1 see [“Ineffably Inevitable”](https://archiveofourown.org/works/19344982)

* * *

* * *

  
”G’Morning."

Aziraphale opened his eyes, blinked, and experienced an instant of of startled confusion. He was lying in a bed, he was wearing nothing at all under the sheets, and from the bright light streaming through the window it was well past the early hours of the day. Then the entirety of the previous evening crashed in on his memory like a tidal wave. He turned and felt his heart thud to see Crowley lounging propped up on one elbow, watching him with a faint smile. The covers around him were still disheveled from their first frantic night together, and his reddish hair was tousled from sleep and other things. He looked absolutely marvelous. 

Aziraphale opened his mouth to say something but found he had no words, so he just smiled instead. He reached up and gently touched Crowley’s face. What more needed to be said, after all? They both lay like that for a few minutes, content to just enjoy the quiet between them. Finally Crowley cleared his throat.

"I don’t suppose I could tempt you to a bit of...lunch?" he asked, quirking his mouth in acknowledgment of the old joke. “I think we’ve missed breakfast.” 

Aziraphale’s face lit up involuntarily the way it always did when anyone mentioned food, and his stomach gurgled loudly. Crowley took that for an answer and laughed. “Come on then. As I recall, your favourite little cafe is only just down the street. I’m _sure_ ” - with a significant glance - “that a last minute reservation could be acquired."

* * *

They stepped outside together a short time later. It was a gorgeous summer day, and the streets were full of people going about their lives, seemingly oblivious to the fact that reality had been rewritten a mere day or two before. Humans were a funny bunch, Aziraphale thought fondly.

He looked at Crowley sidelong, admiring the way his clothes- the same clothes as yesterday- hugged his body. There was something different about him today, a kind of looseness to his stride and new lightness in his bearing, as if some underlying tension had been stripped away. It looked good on him; the angles of his face seemed softer, less harsh. He was startled to realise that he also wasn’t wearing his customary sunglasses.

As they walked down the pavement Crowley reached out and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. “What?” he asked, as Aziraphale looked up at him in surprise. 

“Nothing. I just wasn’t sure if you were alright with showing....you know. Affection. In public,” Aziraphale admitted, smiling.

Crowley raised his eyebrows and looked around at the crowd of people as if seeing them for the first time. Holding Aziraphale’s gaze, he very deliberately raised his hand to his mouth and slowly kissed the back of his wrist.

“Oh,” the angel said weakly. His stomach fluttered, and his normally articulate tongue seemed to have deserted him.

They continued down the street, his knees feeling a bit wobbly. It was intoxicatingly surreal to be walking in broad daylight holding hands without a care for who might see them. Aziraphale kept getting flashes of panic that another angel would spot them, before remembering that it no longer mattered.

As they crossed through a quiet side alleyway Crowley suddenly paused, tugging Aziraphale to a halt and glancing in both directions.

Before Aziraphale could say anything, Crowley seized him by the jacket lapels and kissed him, pushing him insistently backwards into a small alcove until they were pinned up against the brick wall. He took his time then, moving his mouth against Aziraphale’s slowly and carefully while one hand cradled the back of his head. He gently slid his tongue through Aziraphale’s parted lips and deepened the kiss further, wrapping the other arm around his shoulders and holding him close.

After a relative eternity he pulled back a fraction, golden eyes half-closed. “Is that enough public affection for you?” he murmured against his lips.

Breathless, Aziraphale swallowed and took a moment to find his voice. “No, actually” he whispered, and slid his arms around Crowley’s waist. “Not by half,” and pulled his mouth back to him.

They stayed like that for a long while, tucked into the stone nook, lost in their own private world and savoring the thrill of each other as their lunch reservation time came and went. Neither of them seemed to mind. At one point an older gentleman came bustling down the alley on some unknown business, but Crowley half turned (without taking his mouth from Aziraphale’s) and gave him such a ferocious glare that the man quickly turned about and scampered back the way he came.

Finally, Crowley broke off the kiss and sighed. “You have no idea how much I wanted to do that before.” Aziraphale chuckled; he didn’t need to ask what he was talking about. “That makes two of us.”

“Really? Why didn’t you then?” Crowley demanded.

It was Aziraphale’s turn to smirk. “Excuse me, _you_ were the one who had me up against a wall.”

“Oh come _on_ , angel,” Crowley groaned, rolling his eyes. “Do I have to do everything?”

“Not anymore, I hope,” he responded. He grinned impishly at him. “I’m a slow learner, but I think I finally have the hang of it.” He reached up and held Crowley’s face between his hands, marveling at the incredible fortune that had allowed him to touch this man. “Come home with me.” 

“What about lunch?” Crowley asked, looking confused. 

“Bugger lunch,” he replied without malice. “I meant come home with me for good.” 

He dared to meet his eyes, and Crowley was staring at him now with such hopeful vulnerability that Aziraphale could suddenly barely speak past the longing in his throat.

“Come stay with me. There’s plenty of space. We could move your plants into the back room, and- you’d never have to sleep alone anymore." He plunged on recklessly, "Or we could run off the way you always said; we could find somewhere new together, just the two of us, somewhere no one would ever find-" 

“Yes,” Crowley interrupted seriously.

”Wh- really?” He felt his face split into an uncontrollable smile. “Which one?” 

“Either. Both. Whichever you want. Yes.” He pulled him close again, setting his forehead against his and sighing in what almost sounded like relief.

“Yes.”

Yards away, the normal crush and rhythm of human life continued unabated, but for the moment neither angel nor demon felt any urge to join them. 

**Author's Note:**

> Illustration by @freedomattack_thereal (IG)


End file.
